


To Reach Beyond The Emptiness

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drinking, Exes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 14:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6011230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben runs into his college boyfriend at the grocery store.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Reach Beyond The Emptiness

_Bread, half-and-half, reduced fat Ruffles._ Ben repeats it to himself as he tromps through the grocery store, shivering in the frozen foods aisle. He always gets lost for some reason— it’s usually his husband doing the shopping. He’s sick now, though, and he’ll be pissed if Ben forgets something or gets the wrong kind of chips. _Bread, half-and-half, reduced fat Ruffles_.

As he’s heading for what he hopes is the dairy section, he feels a hand on his arm and he whips around reflexively, startling—

“ _Hux_?” he chokes out, breaking into a grin when he recognizes the man behind him.

Snowflakes sticking in his graying red hair, deep lines etched around his eyes, but still with the same quirked up mouth. “Hello, Kylo.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles, pulling Hux into a quick, one-armed, awkward hug. “It’s, uh, it’s Ben now, actually. Kinda grew out of the whole…”

“Whiny college emo aesthetic?”

“Yeah, that,” Ben says, running a hand through his hair. The last time he saw Hux it was longer, and dyed black. He can remember distinctly the last time Hux teased him for his bangs. He can remember distinctly the last time Hux kissed him gently at the soft spot behind his ear. “How’ve you been?”

“Great,” Hux says. It takes him a second too long to answer. “I’m teaching. Got a cat. I’m married.”

“Oh, uh, me too,” Ben says, showing off his ring finger. “It’s great.”

“Really great.”

“Yeah.”

They both sigh in unison. “So, um,” Hux says, and Ben’s struck by how _normal_ he seems. Two years older than him, Hux had seemed on another plane of existence in college, cooler, more knowledgeable. Now he just seems old. “I’d love to buy you a drink.”

“That would be excellent,” Ben starts, “but, uh, the only bar around here is this shitty Cantina place.”

“Oh, you’re— you’re right, I know the place,” he says. “God, do you remember that time at that little hole in the wall—”

“With the karaoke?” Ben says, and laughs. They’d gotten wasted and Hux had performed a breathtaking rendition of “These Boots Were Made For Walkin’”. The next morning they’d woken up both hungover with splitting headaches, a bottle of lube open on the nightstand because they were really _planning_ to have sex but had ended up just falling asleep tangled together. “Yeah, I remember.”

“Growing up is awful,” Hux says. “Alright, so if I can’t buy you a drink… why don’t we just get a six-pack and drink it in the car? I’ve got Sirius XM.”

“Of course you do,” Ben says, and he glances down at his carrier. Bread, reduced fat Ruffles. All he needs is the half-and-half. “Sure,” he tells Hux. “That sounds great.”

Ben grabs the half-and-half and they go to the register, trying to make conversation the whole time. The problem is that they’re avoiding any mention of the past and of the present so it’s pretty much limited to interesting television programs that will be on next week.

Hux drives an unremarkable little sedan, which doesn’t surprise Ben in the slightest. He slides into the passenger’s seat, stowing his groceries at his feet. Hux nestles his bags carefully in the backseat and then flips on the heat and the radio in the car, finding an acoustic coffee shop music station.

One beer can cracks open with a hiss, and he hands it to Ben before opening one for himself. “To getting old as hell,” he says, and toasts. They clink the cans and drink. “You know,” Hux says, pensive as he stares out at the gently drifting snowflakes, “every year I take my class to this art museum. And there’s a painting there that always reminds me of you.”

Ben smirks. “Is it a nude painting?”

Hux just clicks his tongue in annoyance. “It’s abstract, actually. Doesn’t look like you or anything, just… the colors. It makes me think of you.” He sips his beer. “So what does your husband do?”

They drink and they talk, they talk and they drink, they toast and they watch the snow melt as fast as it hits the pavement. It’s cold, but not cold enough to stick. They’ll both have to go to work tomorrow, for sure.

When they crack open the next two beers, Ben takes a long, long swig of his before talking. “How was Italy?”

Hux stiffens just slightly. “Amazing food,” he says. “Amazing art. I completely butchered the language, but… it was a good time.”

“I was going to say goodbye to you.” It comes out suddenly, like he couldn’t hold it back. Hux seems mildly surprised. “I mean,” Ben stumbles, “I was on my way to the airport. I just couldn’t make it in time, you were gone… I really was going to say goodbye to you, though.”

“Hm,” Hux says. Thinking. Wondering. They toast to a slew of inside jokes from college and good professors and shitty professors and great places to hook up in the library and particularly bad storms they remember. Hux talks about his job and his cat and never once brings up his husband.

As they’re both nursing drink number three, Ben looks over at Hux, really looks. Sees the gray at his temples and the slump in his shoulders and the age etched in every line of his face. He sees, too, a younger man who held his liquor only half the time and hated greasy diner food but ate it anyway and who once cut up a shirt of Ben’s because he’d dreamt that Ben said something rude to him.

“Are you happy?” he asks, voice low. He doesn’t know what answer he’s expecting. He doesn’t know what answer he wants. He doesn’t know _if_ he wants an answer.

Hux watches him like he’s waiting for Ben to take the question back. And finally he says, “Are you?”

Ben looks back at him across the center console of the car. For just a second, he entertains the idea of snatching the beer can out of Hux’s hand and leaning over, kissing him until neither of them can breathe, until the sky darkens and the windows fog up.

It’s just an idea. Ben sighs. “Growing up sucks.”

They finish their beers and they sit in silence, and then Hux remembers that he has to feed his cat and Ben remembers that he has someone waiting at home for reduced fat Ruffles, and the two exchange a clumsy handshake, and Ben gets out of the car.

As Hux drives away, the falling snow turns into rain.


End file.
